


That Awful Mess

by y3llowdaisi3s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Detective Noir, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The murder of Ronald Billius Weasley - War Hero, One-Third of the Golden Trio, his brother-in-law, one of his best friends - was at the heart of the cacophony surrounding Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Awful Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written for dysfuncentine 2013 on LJ.
> 
> I also stole a potion name from LeeLeePotter’s “Death Eater Takes a Holiday” because it’s pretty damn clever and it fit so perfectly for what I needed. The title of this is based on the classic Whodunit film “That Awful Mess on Via Merulana” based on something very similar pulled from it. The whole thing may feel confusing at first, and it may end confusing too, but I tried to write it as if you were watching a film noir film.

**That Awful Mess**

Harry didn’t think the Wizengamot had ever seen a more crowded courtroom. Maybe not even when the Death Eater trials were happening after the War. Sure, people wanted to see justice in action, but the uproar was no where near as great as it was now.

It was being heralded as the trial of the century, which only made Harry scoff. It was only the first decade of the new century, not even ten years since the War, and they said this was the trial of the century. 

The murder of Ronald Billius Weasley - War Hero, One-Third of the Golden Trio, his brother-in-law, one of his best friends - was at the heart of the cacophony surrounding him.

He wanted to throw up. He had barely had time to mourn Ron’s death since he was too busy keeping his wife and other best friend from falling apart. 

Luckily for Harry, tending Hermione wasn’t the workload he had expected, but he would take the reprieve where he could get it. 

The Burrow, immediately after the murder, was almost as stifling as it was right after the War, after Fred had died. He had wanted to get out of there quickly so when Hermione excused herself from the mourning, he followed soon after with the excuse of “checking up on her,” and “she shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”

He found her sitting in the dark on her patio with a cigarette in her hand, a cloud of smoke over her head. 

“Hello, Harry,” she said with an emotionless voice that made Harry shudder.

He sat down next to her, grabbed the cigarette out of her hand, and snubbed it on the ground with his foot. “Since when did you smoke, Hermione?”

She had turned to look him in the eye, her face as empty as her voice, “Since I found out my husband was a cheating bastard.”

And now Harry sat to her left with her hand grasping his. It felt more like she was supporting him than the other way around, but with his wife crying on his other shoulder, he didn’t mind. Hermione always was level-headed, and the fact that she wasn’t screaming at her husband’s murderer spoke volumes of what Ron had done to her heart.

A gavel sounded, bringing silence to courtroom ten. Susan Bones, who had worked her way up the ranks to replace her Aunt as Head of the Department of Magical Law, stopped the gaveling and Tiberius Ogden, Chief Warlock, stepped forward and addressed the room.

The old man wheezed, “We are here to hear testimony against the accused for the murder of Ronald Billius Weasley.”

The words caused an outcry from the audience members; a loud wail came from Harry’s wife and mother-in-law. Harry noted that Hermione’s jaw clenched.

The gavel sounded once again while Susan yelled for everyone to settle down. Once quiet descended the courtroom, Ogden continued, "Bring in the accused."

Harry watched as his old schoolmate, Lavender Brown, walked in through the large thick doors. Her face was crestfallen, tear tracks visible on her cheeks. The room filled with shouts and screams; some people were spitting on the woman which made Harry cringe. He watched as his wife hissed at their old Housemate and Hermione only sat up straighter, eyes eyes as hardened as amber.

Susan again yelled for order and once Lavender sat down in the imposing chair in the middle of the room. The fifty or so Wizengamot members in the stadium seats facing her, glaring. 

"Lavender Brown, you stand accused of murder in the first degree. How do you plead?" Ogden's scratchy voice said.

"Not guilty," Lavender squeaked, much to the annoyance of the audience who began to shout again.

"If you do not settle down, you will be removed from the courtroom," Susan yelled over the din.

Harry thought that was a good idea. There were plenty of people present who had no real reason to be there other than wanting to watch. He didn't even really want to be there, but he was going to be called as a witness, so there was no escape for him.

Ogden did not let the happenings bother him and simply continued as if they were never interrupted. "Very well, I understand that you have hired a solicitor for your defense. Mr Zabini, if you could, please step forward."

Harry startled. He didn't know that she was being represented by Blaise Zabini. Zabini had the reputation as being one of the most shrewd solicitors to ever face the Wizengamot. He was Malfoy's lead solicitor and Harry wasn't sure how Lavender managed to get him to represent her, but he didn’t like the prospect of justice not being served. 

His best friend was dead, and the person responsible deserved to pay.

Zabini - who was seated a few rows in front of him by the Malfoy family and other guests from the night of the party where his best friend died - stood up and walked forwards so that he was in the direct line of sight of the interrogator. He gave a bow of his head and said, “Good morning, sir.” Zabini pulled something from his pocket and cast _Engorgio_ on what appeared to be folders.

Ogden nodded to the solicitor. “Please proceed.”

Zabini coughed into his hand and pulled a sheet of parchment from the first folder. “Yes, I would like to start by calling Narcissa Malfoy to the stand.”

Harry wondered how Narcissa would assist in helping Lavender’s case. Narcissa hosted the event where Ron died, she was one of the people to first report the murder, and was the first person to accuse Lavender before evidence proved her right.

The regal woman stood gracefully and glided to the witness stand. Sitting like a noble, she folded her hands onto her lap. Harry wondered if the woman felt anything for the death that happened in her home. He knew she was a Death Eater’s wife and had to be use to it, but to appear so cold, it seemed almost _cruel_. Harry recalled the running gag that he and Ron would joke. _Frigid Ice Bitch_. Right then, the witch made the joke appear true.

Harry listened as Zabini questioned her about the night of the party. Harry recalled how excited everyone was to attend. His wife ensured that they wore matching costumes - he dressed as Alexander to her Cleopatra - and much fun was had. They met Ron and Hermione in the foyer of the Manor. Hermione dressed as a dark angel, nose in the air, not once looking at the man she called her husband. Harry remembered complimenting his elaborate pirate costume. Hermione had wished Harry and his wife a good Halloween and brushed off, only to be seen in casual glances speaking to different people. At the time, Harry thought nothing of it, knowing the problems between the married couple; he could easily understand Hermione’s attitude. Had she just found out about the affair?

“You were the first person on the scene?” Zabini asked, jostling Harry from his memories. Harry hated court cases. It was all just rehashing things that had already happened. Yes, he wanted justice to be served, but really, he wanted to mourn the death of his best friend in peace.

“Yes, I was checking on the state of some of our guest rooms.”

“Why?”

Narcissa appeared affronted at the question. Harry understood why, but also wanted to know. Why did she need to go look at the rooms? Why was she the one to find him? He was happy that she did, because it could have taken a whole other day to discover that Ron had died. “As you were there - and many of the people here in this room - know several guests imbibed a bit too much in the refreshments. I couldn’t let them Apparate in their state, and went to make sure we had rooms available.”

“And you had to do it? Why not a house-elf?”

Good question, Harry thought. Why wasn’t a house-elf doing the job of a servant? Harry tried to remember when he had last saw Narcissa and drew a blank. Earlier in the evening, he and Ginny thanked her for the invite when she informed them it was at Draco’s insistence. Hermione happened to be with them at the time, and she forced them to go thank the ferret. Harry grumbled as he was wont to do, but followed through nonetheless. He and his wife had left their best friend with the host to find the pompous blond.

“Our family has two house-elves in our employ. Chooky was in charge of refreshments and Cobblers had the day off. It was either I take over for Chooky or check the rooms myself. Of course I went with the choice that let me hide my work from our guests.” She sneered at the shocked audience. Harry was shocked as well, barely able to hold back a gasp. His wife was muttering about how unfeasible it all seemed, and he couldn’t help but agree. The Malfoy elves had days off?

“The day off?”

“Part of our agreement. In exchange for not freeing them, they get a day off each month and one sickle every week. They weren’t happy with the arrangement at first but have grown to accept it.”

Harry’s eyes boggled. He knew the Malfoys has reformed - he couldn’t read the _Daily Prophet_ and not be reminded of the fact - but to treat the house-elves in such a way just seemed unreal. It destroyed the very foundation of what he thought about the Malfoys - a mean, bigoted, purist family that had no care for anyone but themselves. The foundation was built on how Dobby felt about them, yet that no longer seemed to be accurate?

He shook his head at it all, no longer listening to the questioning of when Narcissa first found the body. As an Auror he was one of the first people on the scene. Yes, he was off-duty, but Hermione heard the scream and dragged him with her. Narcissa had fainted at the door. Harry remembered how Hermione steeled her spine and marched into the open doorway without even bothering to check on their hostess. Harry cast a charm to check on Madame Malfoy, then quickly followed behind, walking straight into Hermione’s back.

“No more questions,” Blaise said, straightening the papers he held in front of him. Harry watched the witness, in all her regality, return to her seat. “I call Hermione Granger to the stand.”

Squeezing her hand, Harry tried to convey his support as much as possible. She shrugged it off, but gave him a small smile as she walked up to the witness stand. He understood how much she must be hurting at that moment. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if Ginny cheated on him, and with someone he considered a friend. It would break his heart. Then for her spouse to be murdered before anything could be said or done about the affair. The whole thing was just wrong.

He didn’t listen as Hermione recalled her evening, what she was doing, where she was. Instead, he focused on her hard gaze, rigid back, and pursed lips. She was a woman scorned and knowing her as well as he did, he figured she was upset at not getting to have the final row with her now deceased husband. He remembered having to take Hermione into custody as a suspect. He found the idea ludicrous, but a scorned wife was as plausible as a jilted lover when it came to who could have killed his best friend.

“And where were you when it was discovered Ron was no longer with us?”

Harry rolled his eyes at the solicitor’s language. Sure, it was a nice way of putting ‘finding the dead body’ but it was still just as unnecessary as the question itself. She was with him, obviously. The whole trial seemed to just be some spectacle the Ministry concocted to appease the masses, and he wished he didn’t have to be a part of it.

“I was at the refreshment table, speaking with Master Malfoy and his son.”

Harry didn’t know she was talking with Lucius or Draco at the time. It seemed the trial would be a time of revelations. First what the _Daily Prophet_ said about the Malfoys seemed to be true, next Hermione is on good terms with the Malfoy males. What was the world coming to? Mentally shaking his head, he missed the next question, but focused on Hermione’s response.

“I had looked around the room trying to determine what could’ve happened. Everyone seemed shocked, but the first thought for those around me was ‘where are my loved ones?’ and so I tried to find my husband and friends. Harry was not too far off from me, and when I noticed that Ron wasn’t anywhere to be found, I grabbed him and ran in the direction of the scream.”

He could recall all of that, easily. When he saw the body doused in blood in the middle of the floor, head bashed in and a vanity chair knocked over, he went numb. It had taken him several moments to come to grips with what was happening in front of him, but when Hermione’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor, he got himself together. He grabbed her, and held her close and she mumbled into his shirt, no tears, no sobs, not even a bonecrushing hug, just the mumblings of a woman who had just lost her husband. The question ‘why’ fell from her lips over and over; Harry asked the same thing. 

Why? And then he asked who? When Aurors finally showed up, they called him onto duty and next thing he knew, everyone from the party was detained and could not leave the Manor. After initially being questioned, he was brought in to interview the guests. When mention of Ron yelling at Hermione was brought to his attention, he brought her into custody, only to find Lavender and the girl who worked at George’s shop already being questioned as suspects. He had sighed in relief at that, not truly believing Hermione would go so far as to kill Ron for his transgressions. Sure, he hadn’t known Ron was having an affair at the time, but when Hermione and Ron had a row, the screaming matches and the silent treatment that followed, were legendary.

“And when did you find out that your husband was unfaithful?”

The tight grip on his arm brought his attention to his wife’s hand squeezing him. He looked up into her angry face. The Weasley family was still coming to terms with finding out about Ron’s latest blunder. Molly was still trying to get Hermione’s forgiveness after originally going off on her for her youngest son’s death. The one time she visited after the funeral, the yelling could be heard from the garden. His best friend hadn’t returned to the Burrow since, only speaking to the family through Floo.

“Right before leaving for the party. I was so angry that I even changed my costume.” She still had the expressionless voice. Hermione was holding herself together and Harry was afraid for when she would break down. There had to have been love there once, and when she remembered that love, Harry vowed to be there for her when she finally let the tears fall. 

“There was a letter on the kitchen counter from St Mungo’s. I didn’t see the envelope so I wasn’t sure who it was addressed to, but they were paternity results saying Ronald was the father. I knew I hadn’t gone to St Mungo’s nor was I pregnant. I went upstairs and changed costumes and gave Ronald the cold shoulder for the rest of the night.”

This was all news to Harry. Sure, when he chased her home that one night to find her smoking, he had learned a lot about the relationship his best friends shared - they were growing apart, didn’t want the same things, never saw each other. The happy front that the pair had put on for everyone was so good that he had asked if she would have taken him back had he not been dead.

The dead look she gave him with the quiet _no_ told him all he needed - wanted - to know.

“The rest of the night?” Zabini baited. Harry tried to hold his memories at bay, he too was interested to learn about the row many guests mentioned.

“He confronted me. Eventually, cornered me so that I couldn’t just leave him alone. I didn’t know how I felt about it yet. I had not only found out my husband had been cheating on me, but he had also impregnated another woman. I didn’t want to say anything I would possibly regret.”

“And what was said during this fight?”

“He asked me, and I quote, ‘Why are you acting like such a bitch?’ and I slapped him. I asked him what gave him the nerve to ask me something like that. How could he treat me like that? I asked him how long had he been seeing her. How many times did they have relations before he got her pregnant?” Hermione responded without any emotion to her voice. The way she made everything sound clinical deadened Harry’s heart. Was his Hermione so heartbroken that she refused to feel anything? “I asked if he was shagging this other woman while I begged for a child?”

Harry gasped. The whole crowd did. Now this was news. If anything, speculations were that Hermione was the one holding out. He turned his head to the side and saw his wife and mother-in-law shake their heads. Dinners at the Burrow always involved them discussing the lives of Ron and Hermione. They all wondered - himself included, if he were being honest - wondered why no children were in their near future. Harry was excited to have his two boys, and he and his wife agreed to try again once more for a girl in a year’s time, but Ron and Hermione remained childless, even though more and more nieces and nephews came into their lives.

“He wouldn’t even try with me. We hadn’t had sex in three months. He was always busy, working, helping out at George’s shop. I had stopped taking the potion half a year ago, hoping to find myself accidentally pregnant, but it never happened. Three months ago I went to see a healer to make sure I was capable of children - I would be devastated if I couldn’t - and received a clean bill of health. I figured it was my husband’s fault that I was still without child. So I stopped trying. He’d tell me he needed to stay late, I’d tell him to be safe. He would say he already made plans with the boys, I’d tell him to have fun. The way I see it, finding that letter was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce.”

Shocked gasps once more rung in the courtroom. Harry’s mind was boggled. Where was he during all of this? Was he that terrible of a friend to Hermione that he hadn’t noticed her decaying marriage? Was he a factor, having invited Ron out to drinks with him, Dean, and Seamus all those times?

“We shouted some more and went our separate ways. It was the last that I saw of him,” she continued, still with her eerie unemotional way. Harry shuddered at the thought of his last words with the woman he supposedly loved being him asking for a divorce. How could things have gotten so bad?

Why did Ron cheat? Ron had always complained about Lavender back in school, but lately, on the late night binges with the gang, he’d only complain about the state of affairs in his home life. _Hermione is always working, never home. She’s out researching again with the Malfoys, who knows what they’ll come up with next. Hermione is being awarded again for helping out the Weres._ Looking back, Harry realised Ron complained about his marriage - his wife - a lot. It was always about her accomplishments, and how she did something again, again, and _again_. Did he still see himself as inferior? 

Harry was really starting to question how good of a friend he was. Especially as Hermione stepped down from the witness stand. He hadn’t even paid attention to the end of her statements, so focused on himself and how he contributed to the failure of his best friend’s lives. He felt miserable and the hand Hermione placed on his shoulder for comfort only made him feel worse.

“I call Harry Potter as my next witness,” Zabini stated, not once looking back at the audience. 

Hermione whispered to him a quiet good luck and he watched as his wife grasped his best friend’s hand in his absence. They would all get through this, he was sure. He fidgeted in his seat until he was comfortable, and watched as the solicitor of his best friend’s alleged murderer paced before him.

“You were an Auror involved in the investigation, correct?”

Again with the mundane questions. “Yes.” Unable to hold back, he rolled his eyes.

“Did you sit in all suspect’s interrogations?”

“If you mean Hermione’s and Lavender’s, then yeah.” He was an Auror involved in the investigations, so of course it meant he sat in the interrogations. How this man was considered one of the best solicitors, Harry would never know.

“And not a Miss Verity Caldwell’s?”

So that was her name. “I was questioning Miss Granger at the same time as Miss Caldwell was being interrogated. They completed around the same time and were both let go.”

“Yet Miss Brown was held back?”

“She hadn’t passed the preliminary questions and needed to be questioned once more.”

“And what sort of questions were asked during the preliminary questions that Miss Granger and Miss Caldwell both passed?”

Did they do something wrong? Did the Aurors forget something along the way? Would Lavender get off on a technicality? That just wouldn’t do. Narrowing his eyes, Harry responded, “We asked for their whereabouts at the time of the murder. Time of death was set to fifteen minutes before he was found. Hermione - Miss Granger - had an alibi as she was in the main room talking to the Malfoys. This was corroborated by Lucius Malfoy. In regards to Miss Caldwell, my understanding was she was speaking with one of the Patil twins. I didn’t see her, nor was I there during her interrogation so I can’t comment on her. Miss Brown, however, was seen earlier at the party, but the wards never recorded her leaving. No one knew where she was from eight onwards. That alone made her our primary suspect.”

“And how was it proven that you hadn’t let go of the killer earlier and that Miss Brown indeed murdered Mister Weasley?” The smug look on Zabini’s face grated on Harry’s last nerve. Did Zabini know something that he didn’t? And why was Harry chosen as the Auror to be questioned when any of the other Aurors on the assignment would have easily sufficed? 

Taking a deep breath, he responded, “She had motive and admitted to being in the room with him right before Madame Malfoy found him.”

The news caused an uproar in the audience. The crowd was shouting for justice, demanding the Kiss for Lavender Brown. While he didn’t condone Lavender’s actions, he didn’t think she deserved the Kiss. Twenty-five to life, at least in Azkaban, sure, but a soulless existence? Harry couldn’t bear the thought.

“Order in the court,” Susan shouted, banging her gavel. 

When the room settled, Zabini maintained his smirk, and continued questioning Harry. “Let’s get back to that in a minute. First, what motive do you speak of?”

“She wasn’t the pregnant witch.”

Jaws dropped but no one shouted. Yes, that was a bombshell and a half. Harry recalled being utterly confused by it all. Yeah, he didn’t know the specifics, but he knew that the jilted lover was also being cheated on.

“You weren’t aware of that at the time though, were you?” The arched brow that accompanied the smirk only made Harry want to pummel the man.

“No, but we had learned that not only was Ron spending numerous evenings with Miss Brown, he was also having relations with Miss Caldwell.”

“Do elaborate.”

Harry clenched his jaw. Looking out into the crowd, he found his family shocked at the revelation. The twins shook their head learning their assistant would do something so underhanded. He glanced at Hermione, the only person in the group who seemed unaffected. The woman was strong and in that moment he loved her all the more for it. It seemed she was the one calming Ginny and Molly, not the other way around as it should. She was the one who was cheated on. She was the one with the dead husband.

“Apparently, when Ron was helping out at the shop, he was actually helping Miss Caldwell.” Harry tried to tone back the snark, the vitriol coming out of his mouth was unpleasant news and while he was angry at Zabini, he didn’t want to hurt his family. He had withheld this information for a reason. He hadn’t even told Hermione about the other woman when Hermione told him she knew that Ron was cheating on her with Lavender. 

Finally sparing a glance at the defendant, Harry watched as tears fell down Lavender’s face. What was the saying? If he’ll cheat with you, he’ll cheat on you? Mentally, he rolled his eyes. If his best friend wasn’t dead right now, he would say she got was coming to her. Getting between the marriage of his two best friends like that. Yes, they fought, and sure, they weren’t perfect, but they were married and, until recently - at least he thought so - happily so for the past four years.

“So other than possible motive, as both of the other ladies shared the same motive, you said she was the last person in the room before the body was found, correct?”

“Yes,” he nodded his head. He felt like they were talking in circles. Was all of this really necessary right now? 

“What did she say in regards to her being there?”

“That she went to talk to him. She found him sitting there. They started arguing, had a scuffle of sorts, and next thing she knew he had hit his head and fallen. He wasn’t getting up so she ran.”

Pursing his lips, Harry wondered if anything else was needed. She ran from the scene, it was pretty obvious who was at fault here. At least, in his mind he could see it. And really, he just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with.

Walking back to where his family sat, he tried to convey his sympathy to Hermione for how Molly and Ginny were whispering harshly into her ear. The small smile of thanks lifted his heart slightly, her facade was slowly cracking, relief for his soul. He didn’t want Hermione to change, not after all this. She was his best friend and he didn’t want to lose her to the empty shell she appeared to be since the Halloween party.

“I ran into him in the hall before returning to the ballroom. We exchanged some words, but that was the last time I saw him.”

Harry hadn’t realised that the next witness was called and his eyes narrowed at the sight of a regal Draco Malfoy.

“What words did you exchange?”

“He accused me of getting between his marriage,” Malfoy scoffed. Harry wanted to scoff with him. His late best friend was a great friend, but he could be an idiot at times. “Saying all the time Hermione spent with me on work was a factor in their failing marriage.”

Holding his tongue, he glanced at Hermione who sat stoically. Nothing being said today was anything she hadn’t heard. Even if it was the first time the rest of Ron’s family learned about all this. Harry wondered just how close Hermione and Malfoy had to be for them to be on first name basis. He didn’t like it, but at the same time, he also knew Hermione liked to throw herself into her work when personal issues became a problem. The state of her marriage, and her avoiding the truth of it, would explain all the recent breakthroughs she had a part in.

His thoughts kept distracting him from the questioning, but listening to Malfoy detail the many late nights he would return to the office to find Hermione working upset Harry. Why did she never come to him with this? Sure, Ron was his _other_ best friend, but Hermione was like a sister. Looking to his left, at the Weasley family sitting with him, the scowls on their faces so apparent, he could see why Hermione stayed clear. Even in light of all that Ron did to Hermione, the fact that it was a Malfoy who helped keep her sane meant nothing. Personally, Harry wanted to thank him for helping Hermione with all her projects, from breaking down and hurting Ron and all her other loved ones.

“I called him out on his sordid affairs. Mentioning that several of his lovers were present. During his shock, I walked away.”

“In reference to his lovers, were you being vague about it to just anger him, or did you actually know the specifics?”

“I knew. I ran into Hermione once or twice in the middle of her research with tears rolling down her cheeks. It took some time, but eventually she confided in me that she thought Ron was cheating on her. She had no actual proof, but the late nights and the perfume she smelled on his laundry was an obvious indicator.”

Feeling more ashamed of himself, he squeezed Hermione’s hand once more. His wife didn’t seem too pleased with the news, but Harry again wanted to give Malfoy thanks.

“We hired an investigator. My father and I. We couldn’t have our best researcher on the fritz. We learned about his transgressions with Miss Brown and Miss Caldwell. How he shuffled them based on his workload. He wasn’t necessarily lying when he said he was working late or helping out at the shop. He just stayed out later than he should. If work at the Ministry ran long, he’d invite Miss Brown back to his office for a rendezvous. If he was working at the Weasley’s shop, he and Miss Caldwell would go for drinks afterwards, lasting a couple hours. I had seen both women at the party. And both looked just as unhappy as Miss Granger did.”

Wincing, Harry listened to the screech of his mother-in-law. Luckily, George was quick to hush the woman. Harry understood that hearing about the transgressions of your youngest boy from the mouth of a conceived enemy would be hard. Hermione only stiffened in her seat. The Malfoys had done more for Hermione than any of the Weasleys had. The longer this trial went, the more he realised how his family had abandoned her. Practically pushing her into the arms of the Malfoys. Ron’s cheating may have been the first cut into their bond, but dealing with his death and reacting to the sins of the deceased was looking to finally sever their ties. He didn’t want that, couldn’t let that happen. 

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She palmed his hand, giving him a watery smile, and whispered back, “Don’t fret, Harry. I knew it’d be like this.”

That only saddened him more. 

There was some commotion coming from the center of the room, drawing Harry’s attention away. Malfoy had already returned to his seat and a young woman was whispering in Zabini’s ear. A smirk was growing on the solicitor’s face - reminding Harry how much he despised the man - before he walked up to speak to Ogden. After a terse exchange, Ogden cleared his throat, then spoke. “In light of recent developments, we are going to take a short break. Five minutes, please.”

There was uproar, Harry wanted to call it pandemonium. Everyone was shouting at their neighbors, discussing everything that was learned today as if it wasn’t a murder trial. He could feel how his best friend cringed as Molly and Ginny fussed over her. He held back, listening closely in case he had to intervene, but he could see how Hermione just let what they said wash over her, not truly listening. Her attention was pointed elsewhere, and Harry followed her gaze to Zabini speaking to both Malfoy men. 

Harry wondered what they were discussing. Watching all three smirk that infuriating smirk didn’t seem to bode well for anyone. Was Lavender going to be let off? That wouldn’t make sense though. The Malfoys sounded like they cared for Hermione, so why would they let the woman who murdered her husband - not to mention, mistress of said husband - not pay for her crimes? And Zabini was her solicitor, so wouldn’t he be interested in Lavender’s well being? Weren’t they on opposite sides? He looked back to Hermione and startled at the small uplift at the corner of her mouth. Was she smirking, too?

“Hermione, you’re not listening,” Ginny admonished, shaking the girl by the shoulder. Harry watched as his best friend apologised and tried to converse with those around them. Maybe he was only seeing things? He still wondered though about Zabini and the Malfoys. A group of Slytherins working together was never a good sign, and Harry only wanted justice to be served. Was that too much to ask for?

“Order, order in the court.” Susan’s gavel rang intune with her words, queiting everyone. There was a short moment where people were shuffling into their seats, but attention was quickly drawn back to the man protecting the murderer of Ronald Weasley.

“I’d like to call Eddie Carmichael to the stand, please.”

Eyes narrowing, Harry watched as a man dressed in Healer’s robes stepped up to the stand. He recognised the man, but wasn’t sure as to where.

“He is good with potions. I caught him in fifth year trying to sell some illegal ones,” Hermione whispered into his ear.

Harry thanked Merlin for the information. Not because of the information specifically, but because Hermione had spoken to him. She had been closed off for so long, Harry really did fear for his friend.

“You are a Healer at St Mungo’s, correct?”

“Sort of. I studied as a Healer and have my license, but work in the morgue as the Chief Medical Examiner.” 

“And did you examine Ronald Weasley’s body?”

“Yes.”

“So you noticed the blunt head wound?”

“Yes.”

Harry nibbled his lip. The look on Zabini’s face could only be described as feral. It didn’t bring him any hope to justice being served.

“And was this the cause of death?”

“No.”

Shocked gasps, Harry’s included, was the response. Today was a lovely day for revelations. The hand held to his wife’s heart told him that if they were to be surprised in a year, it would be too soon.

“And what was?”

“A toxin found in his bloodstream.” 

What?

“And why is this only being mentioned now?”

“Results were inconclusive the first time around. On a hunch, I ran them again and found heavy traces of asphodel and wormwood.”

Would a new investigation have to be started? Would they have to start all over? Would another trial be necessary, and today would be repeated once more? Harry’s head hurt. Placing his forehead into his hands, he couldn’t hold back the groan.

“Thank you. I’d like to call my next witness. Verity Caldwell, please.”

Harry snapped back up, his attention drawn to the woman he had known since sixth year. She still had her short blonde hair but the confident woman who once sold him puking pasties so he could get out of class was gone. Instead, she was shaking, as if she knew something terrible was about to happen. 

But what?

“What were you doing the day of the party?”

“I was working on refills for some of the products at the shop.”

“What products?”

Harry found himself sitting at the edge of his seat. He glanced around the room and noticed the rest of the room was waiting on baited breath as well.

“Our Ginger Naps.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“It’s meant to make the user fall into a deep sleep, almost like a coma. Based on the ratio of ingredients, there is a time limit to the sleep. We have a strict formula to follow.”

“And what happens when the formula isn’t followed, the ratio is off?”

“Well...” Harry watched as Verity trailed off and quieted. She nibbled on her lip and Harry knew that what was to follow would probably not end well for her. “When creating the formula, and testing it on rats, some stayed asleep, some never woke up.”

“In what cases did they not wake up?”

Harry stared at the white of the woman’s knuckles. Her fists were clenched so tight, it didn’t seem blood was even making it to her hands. Was this what had Zabini smirking so much? But this information was new, why would he have been so sure of himself at the beginning of the trial?

“The levels of asphodel and monkshood were too high, overpowering the effects of sopophorous bean.”

“Interesting,” Zabini responded, tapping a hand on his chin. “And, how did Mr Weasley act when he found out he was going to be a father?”

“He was upset. Not believing me at first. I told him I ran the tests at St Mungo’s, anticipating his reaction. He was in denial, not believing that even,” she sobbed. The woman had tears trailing her cheeks. Harry wondered if the Wizengamot would feel sorry for her. “He said it wasn’t his. That he had a wife already. That his life didn’t need a kid in it right now. We had a row.”

Zabini returned to the table and shuffled some of his notes. Finding the one he wanted - at least Harry assumed by the look in the man’s eye - Zabini stood before the Wizengamot again. “Is this the same row witnessed by Pavarti Patil?”

Verity nodded, whispering a quiet yes. Pavarti was Lavender’s best friend, could what she said be true? 

“I have an affidavit signed by her stating that you had grabbed a drink for both you and Ron, in hopes of softening the blow if he was drunk. Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“And can we assume, in anticipation of him leaving you, you slipped some of a botched potion in his drink?”

Oh, that’s a good question. Could she have?

“What?! No!” Verity shouted, jumping out of her seat. “How could you think that? I would _never_ kill someone. And I follow the directions exactly. We haven’t had a botch potion since first making them!”

Harry’s head hurt. The whole room was in an uproar. Half the room was yelling for Verity’s arrest. Others shouted that Lavender could have been the person to give the potion. No one knew for sure what happened before Ron slipped. Harry just wanted justice.

And quiet. Quiet would be good.

Harry recalled the quiet moment that he shared with Ron. He hadn’t known it would be his last moment, but it was just the two of them in the hall at the Manor. A pale-faced Ron was standing out of the ballroom, sipping at his drink, when Harry stepped outside looking for Ginny. He had asked Ron if he had seen her. His only response was a shrug. Noticing the melancholy look on his best friend’s face, Harry asked him if he noticed the ridiculous clown inside and if he had any idea who would dress up as one. Instead of the boisterous laugh that he had expected, Ron just shrugged once more. And now, Ron was gone, and no one knew who was at fault for it.

Shrugging, Harry looked to his left, Molly was shouting a storm and Ginny had silent tears falling down her face. A stone-faced Arthur stood tall, quietly murmuring and George shook his head. Harry could understand how George could feel somewhat at fault based on the news. Even if Verity wasn’t the killer, it was a botched version of a potion he designed. Plus, it was also his assistant that was his brother’s mistress. Well, _one_ of his mistresses. 

Looking to his right, to the person who he felt hurt the most out of this all, he found Hermione smirking, and following her gaze, it was at Draco Malfoy. Malfoy returned the smirk and gave her a little bow of the head. He turned back to his best friend and the smirk was gone. Instead, there was just a silent tear rolling down her cheek. Did he imagine -

“What’s going to happen now?” his wife whispered into his ear.

“I don’t know.”


End file.
